In the Summertime by Judy Astley

Author:Judy Astley
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Transworld

TWELVE

‘Ooh er … look at Miranda all dressed up for her date!’ Harriet danced round the pool terrace, waving her mug of coffee dangerously. Miranda ducked out of the way, not keen to risk spillage on to the long white top she was wearing over old jeans and a little skimpy vest that she hoped wasn’t tight enough to show any midriff lard bulges. It had looked all right in the mirror but you could never tell – the light might just have been lucky. The top was a mad, thin cotton asymmetric thing, which would have been hugely expensive if she hadn’t found it on eBay, with a hem that looped up here and there with ties. She’d spent ages fixing it so it looked as if it was randomly put together with no thought at all. It reminded her of Dolly Parton’s adage that it took a lot of money to look this cheap. In Miranda’s case it had taken a lot of effort to look this casual.

‘It’s not a date, Harriet. It’s just, y’know … lunch.’

‘Ha – there’s no such thing as “just, y’know, lunch”,’ Harriet said, looking gleeful. ‘I bet you don’t get back here tonight. I bet you anything.’

‘Ew, please, not in front of us.’ Silva pulled a face and put her hands over her ears. ‘That’s like my mum you’re talking about?’

‘Of course I’ll be back, don’t be ridiculous,’ Miranda said. Feeling flustered and nervous made her more snappy than she meant to be. ‘Harriet’s just being …’

‘Jealous. I’ll admit it. I’m jealous,’ Harriet cut in. ‘I’m the one in need of a man, not you. I’m in massive need of a mercy fu … sorry, I mean a mercy snog. Or something. That bastard Pablo has drained all my confidence away.’

‘Not so’s you’d notice,’ Clare said, glancing up from her book. ‘You seem pretty sparky to me.’

‘I’m hiding my pain,’ Harriet said, pouting. ‘I won’t feel better till I know he’s left the county. He’s still at that hotel.’

‘Calling you every minute. Romantic,’ Silva said, doing exaggerated sighing.

Harriet gave her a sharp look. ‘He is,’ she said, glancing at her phone as she habitually did every few minutes. ‘Well … he was. He was texting, anyway. And there are press people hanging about at the hotel too.’ She sat on the diving board, looking a bit thoughtful. Miranda and Clare exchanged glances. They both knew Harriet’s phone had been silent for a good twenty-four hours, give or take the odd call from girlfriends who were treated to ever more fanciful reports about Pablo’s dramatic arrival at the house. Of Pablo himself there’d been no sign, apart from overheard gossip in the harbour that ‘the druggy footballer’ had been seen whizzing round the country lanes far too fast in a scarlet Ferrari. Harriet made sure she was always wearing full-scale make-up, swearing she always did, but Miranda suspected it was in the hope that the press she’d claimed she dreaded would catch her ‘unawares’

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